


I Have No Past, and Yet I Weep

by DeadlyMidnightshade



Category: Gravity Falls, I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - Harlan Ellison
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Character Death, Dark, Dark Dipper Pines, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Happy halloween, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I blame the short story, I don't know if it counts, I'm Sorry, Lots of character death, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Memory Alteration, Mutilation, Other, Post-Weirdmageddon, Putting it just in case, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, The Author Regrets Everything, Time can't be trusted, Who let me write this?!, why is that a tag?!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 01:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16460750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyMidnightshade/pseuds/DeadlyMidnightshade
Summary: I read 'I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream'. Kind of fucked me up so I made an AU. I suggest reading the short story first, it'll make this make sense, it's also a good read, it also will give you a glimpse of what the story consists of.*PLEASE READ ALL THE TAGS*Me: "I'll take one Fuck Me Up Fam!"My Brain: "I got you!"





	I Have No Past, and Yet I Weep

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so fucking sorry, I promise to write something cute and fluffy after this.

109 years, 52  weeks, 365 days.

 

_Time_

_Time_

_Time_

 

Dipper spit the blood from his mouth. He’d accidentally set off a trap, but got away with only a bruised cheek. Soos shambled up from behind him, poor guy was bleeding too. “Dipper?” he slurred, knuckles dragging on the glass covered concrete. Too small of pieces to be used as weapons, they were also stuck to the ground.

 

Bill made sure of that.

 

“Hush,” Dipper hissed. The creature before them was slowly lumbering in the other direction. Its maw bloody and gleaming from it’s latest kill. Dipper wondered if Wendy was still alive. He doubted it, and she wasn’t worth looking for. The creature finally left and Dipper slowly relaxed. He knew Bill wouldn’t let it kill them. He would let it hurt them though. Dipper didn’t feel like being ripped apart or slowly digested and shat out. He motioned for Soos to follow him. They went through the backways to get to the Mystery Shack.

 

He sighed in relief as it came into view, the shack was the only safe place they had left. Bill’s madness and creatures couldn’t get in. It was a wonderful discovery at first, until they realized that supplies didn’t last forever. Bill had planned to wait them out. Made them ‘immortal’ but still made them need food. They _had_ to go to town to get it. Bill made sure to kill any nourishment that grew around the shack.

 

Dipper opened the door and Soos slunk in. The boy watched the once normal man crawl into a dark corner with his scrap of meat. Soos, the once joyful man-child was now reduced to a meer neanderthal. Bill had sculpted him into a primitive form to match his new mental state. At first, Dipper was horrified by his appearance. After a decade though, he got used to it. Soos was the only one that would accompany Dipper into town.

 

He found Mabel crying in the kitchen, a new bruise on her face. A century ago, Dipper would have confronted anyone that had hurt her. Now though, Dipper felt nothing as she wept. He walked past her and laid out the rotten food he was able to find. Some scraps of meat and a couple cans of beans.

 

Bill leaves them notes, clues, maps, hints to find nourishment. Afterall, they were his playthings. Toys to watch and puppets to pull on strings. Dipper was in charge of finding food. He was the only one who was still sane enough to uncode Bill’s Ciphers.

 

“Dipper?”

 

The boy watched Ford shamble into the kitchen. His glasses were destroyed long ago, one eye missing from its socket. One hand missing all six of its fingers. He was the first to be broken. None of them knew what Bill did to him mentally to destroy him so thoroughly. All they knew was that the barrier around the town went down and the world was plunged into chaos.

 

He now was a shadow of the man he once was. Ford was prone to violence, had hallucinations and didn’t leave the shack unless he was forced to. Dipper handed him a rotten piece of meat. “He was feeling nice today.”

 

The boy handed another piece of meat to Mabel. “Eat,” he ordered. There was no room to argue. Not that she could if she wanted to.  Bill had ripped out her braces, talking was hard for her now. It wasn’t her only mutilation. Once, when Bill captured her, he plucked every single hair out of her head individually. It never grew back. The demon knew physical aesthetics meant a lot to her. What better way to break her then by taking them away?

 

Stan limped in. Dipper realized he had fought something while he was gone. The man sat at the broken table and looked at his grand nephew. “Gnomes, Mabel tried to let them in,” he seethed.

 

The boy frowned, at least he knew why she had a new bruise. Dipper handed him some meat. “Eat,” he said. Stan snatched it from him and grumbled.

 

The old man was Bill’s favorite torture victim. He loved luring Stan into false hope and horrifying traps. Stan’s fight didn’t die, no matter how many times he was ripped apart or set on fire. Dipper hated him though, hated how his once loving teasing morphed into cold cruelty. Hated how he blamed Dipper for the rift, even though he didn’t rebuild the portal. Stan was even more of a bastard, and Dipper felt nothing as he groaned in pain.

 

The boy finally took his share and ate slowly. The meat was human, Dipper knew it was. There weren’t any animals left in the town. It was disgusting, but it was food, and that’s all that mattered. Mabel was crying again. She must have figured out what it was too. Ford smacked her and told her to shut up. All four sat in silence, three glaring at one. Dipper new his lack of serious damage bothered them.

 

Dipper sighed and left the room. They hated him. He knew they hated him. Bill hadn’t mutilated him permanently like he did to them. In the entire century the demon had held them captive in the town, he had never physically altered Dipper. He’d tortured the boy with nightmares but he’d never kept a limb from healing. Bill’s torment was mostly mental, Dipper suffered by watching the people he once loved suffer. He suffered with memories of life before this living hell. The boy remembered what his family looked like, his friend’s voices, he remembered and that was the worst torture of all. Physical scars could heal, the ones of the mind always lingered, like the grooves of the brain.

 

Soos was the only one that didn’t despise him. The mutated man was too dim now to comprehend hate. He mostly stuck near the twins, since the Stans had a tendency to strike him. Dipper went outside and sat on the front porch, and stared out at the red sky. The fearamid stood in the distance. The eye facing them, Bill was always watching.

 

“Happy anniversary,” he took another bite of his meat. Time was a luxury that Bill only gave to him. The others either couldn’t comprehend it or weren’t allowed to know how long they had been suffering. Dipper used to try to tell them. He stopped fifty years ago. “When are you going to let me die?” he asked.

 

_Never_

 

Dipper frowned at the reply. He was the only one Bill would directly speak to. Another reason his family despised him, especially Ford. “Please,” he begged. “It’s been 110 years. You’ve had your fucking revenge! Ford only trapped you for 30 years we’ve been here triple that amount of time!” the boy screamed, “Just let us fucking go already!”

 

_Make me_

 

Dipper began to weep. “Please, you won. You won, just…Fuck, please, just give us something,” he cried.

 

_Fine, but it’s all or nothing_

 

The flutter of paper made Dipper’s eyes widen. It landed in front of his feet. He picked it up and saw it was a riddle. Sitting on the steps, he began to solve it.

 

His eyes widened in shock. Bill’s comment now making sense. He bolted into the shack. “There’s cans of food!” he screamed, with a joy in his voice he hadn’t had in a century.

 

“What?” Ford looked away from the wall.

 

“There’s canned food in the underground bunker! Beans, fruit cocktails, peaches, it’s all down there,” Dipper exclaimed. He turned to Mabel with a smile on his face, “Remember it, Mabel? Remember the shapeshifter?” She didn’t remember, Dipper knew she didn’t. Her mind was too shrouded by the screams of her friends and the tearing of her flesh.

 

Dipper used to cry from her, but now, he had no tears left. The boy explained, “We have to go, all of us.”

 

“Why?!” Ford screamed, “Only you need to go, bring it back for us, like always!”

 

Stan growled, “Stupid, kid, just trying to get us eaten.”

 

Mabel glared at him from the couch, Soos’s head on her lap.

 

“You have to come! Because if we all don’t go, we won’t get anything. He fucking said so, all or nothing. So if you don’t want to keep eating rotten meat and boiled shoe leather than I suggest you come with me!” Dipper roared back. He hated when they argued with him. He was the reason they were still eating and weren’t tortured daily.

 

The three glared at him for a while. Each mulling over their options until Stan finally spoke up.

 

“Fuck it, let’s go. It’s not like it’ll be the first time I’ve been torn apart,” Stan said, getting up. He limped to the door. Mabel followed mutely and Soos lumbered after.

 

“Either come with us, or stay here alone,” Dipper growled at Ford. He knew the old man hated silence, hated lonesomeness. It reminded the man of Bill’s torture. Ford glared at Dipper as he followed his twin out the door, pushing Soos and Mabel out the way.

 

Dipper stalked behind the group and somehow managed to make it to the front. He led them into the forest, clenching the paper in his fist. It was going to be okay. They’d find some good food, maybe even bring some back to the shack. Dipper looked back and saw they were following him dutifully.

 

They hated him, and he hated them too.

 

* * *

 

Dipper hissed at the sting in his leg. Some creature from the darkness had ambushed them. All they could do was run away. Bill didn’t let them have weapons, the group had tried to kill themselves too many times. The demon didn’t want his toys to die, not without his permission.

 

Dipper ripped a piece of his shirt off and wrapped it around Mabel’s cut. She was a burden now, but deep down inside, Dipper still cared about her. He tied off the fabric and stood. Ford was screaming into the air and Stan was trying to shut him up. Soos was the least injured and sat beside Mabel, trying to comfort her.

 

Dipper looked up at the tree. They needed to climb it to open the hatch. He looked at Soos. “Soos, I need you to climb up there and pulled that branch down,” Dipper spoke slowly and pointed out the exact limb, “Understand?” The once man nodded and scaled the fake flora, pulling the lever. Dipper was about to cheer when a bolt of lightning struck the tree.

 

A new scream tore through the forest as Soos fell over 30 feet. His body hit the ground with a sickening ‘thud’. Ford began to scream anew. Soos was punching and clawing at the air. His eyes now black and empty sockets. Congealed blood stuck to his face. His breath was ragged and unsteady as his body spasmed with aftershocks.

 

Mabel scrambled to grab his hand in reassurance. “SoOs, heRe,” she strained to say. It calmed the man though, who was still crying in agony but no longer striking at the air. Dipper rubbed his eyes, the blast had left his vision spotty. He looked at his disarrayed family and scowled. The boy turned and began to descend the stairs of the bunker alone.

 

He knew they’d catch up with him once they regained their senses.

 

_So cold, Pine Tree_

 

“Fuck you,” Dipper growled. Diffusing the boobytraps was easy. Opening the door was no problem. It was all a little too simple. Dipper looked around. The bunker was just as they had left it, in utter disarray. He found the cans of food scattered along the floor. Footsteps echoed through the hall and he heard the cries of joy from his family. Soos scrambled to a can, “I can smell, can smell.” He tried to bit into it. It was sad that Bill ripped out his buck teeth, poor guy might have been able to break the seal.

 

“It seems the bastard didn’t leave us a can opener,” Ford growled.

 

Something shifted in the air. A cosmic wave of realization washing over them. This was another game. Another example of false hope. It seemed to be the breaking point. Soos roared and tackled the once scientist to the ground. He dug his remaining teeth into the man’s face, ripping it from the bone.

 

Dipper looked for something, anything. He saw the large shard of glass on the ground. Picking it up, Dipper realized there was no end to this hell. Bill wouldn’t let them go. He’d reset the chess board and play over and over and over again. The creature reveled in pain and suffering. Loved to watch his prey struggle and beg. There was only one way out and this was their one opportunity.

 

Dipper stabbed Soos in the neck, the blood spraying like a fountain. It covered his face in a warm burst. Adrenaline still pumping, he slit Ford’s throat. Finally silencing the man’s screams. Those awful cries that would keep him up at night finally ceased, and Dipper was overjoyed.

 

Mabel grabbed a shard as well and stabbed Stan in the back, tears in her eyes. Blood covered her hands and face as she brought the shard downward, cutting into the man’s spine. He fell to the ground, lifeless. She looked at her brother, pleading silently. Opening her arms. She welcomed Dipper’s weapon into her chest with a smile on her face. Relief washed over her as her eyes rolled back.

 

Dipper gripped the glass in his bloody hands. He move to plunge it inside his heart, wanting to follow his twin. The shard flew from his grasp and Dipper cried in terror as he was ripped from the bunker and onto a tiled floor. He scrambled around and tried to find anything to kill himself with. Anything to end his life. Anything to help him escape this reality.

 

A hand came down on his head, holding him to the floor. “Please, PLEASE!” He begged and tried to kick out his legs. More hands came down to pin him still. Tears burned at his eyes, for the first time in decades, he cried.

 

“I didn’t think you had it in you, Pine Tree. What would the old you say about what you did?” Bill asked, his unblinking eye staring down the boy.

 

Dipper tried to break free, but it was no use. His body was forever 13 and his malnourished limbs couldn’t even fight off Mabel. He wept in agony, praying for mercy he knew he wouldn’t receive. He’d broken Bill’s playthings, damaged them beyond repair.

 

The demon’s cruel hand on his head turned kind. Inhuman fingers ran through damaged curls. “Oh, Pine Tree, what should I do with you?”

 

Dipper whimpered. He wanted to leave. He just wanted to escape and die like his family. Join them in whatever afterlife or darkness that awaited him. Bill pulled him up to his feet. His entire body shaking from shock and the cooling blood on his skin.

 

“Let’s make a deal, Pine Tree,” The demon beamed. “I’ll give you two options, and you pick one, okay?” He held up a finger, “ The first option is, I can turn you into a gelatinous blob of your own fleshy human parts. You won’t have eyes or ears, or that pretty little mouth. You’ll exist in a constant state of anguish with no senses to distract or guide you. I’ll put you in a maze, watch you slink around and try to find an exit, and when you do I’ll put you back in the middle once again. We’ll play this game over and over until I get bored and turn you into something else. Maybe I’ll make a monster out of your family’s parts and have it chase you. Like the minotaur legends. How does that sound?”

 

Dipper peed his pants. He could feel the fluid running down his leg and hitting the floor. Bill was showing him everything he was describing, it was horrifying, inhumane. Twisted limbs and ungodly cries of pain. He didn’t want that. The demon knew he didn’t. He tried to stop crying, choking on his noises. His mind slowly cleared of the images and Bill spoke again.

 

“Or,” The demon started, “You can become my live in pet. I’ll make sure your fed, and clothed. I’ll give you books to read and things to make. You’ll be happy and blissful. All you have to do, is give yourself to me.”

 

Flashes of food and a bed ran through Dipper’s mind. Clothes and entertainment, joy and happiness. The boy knew there had to be more than just obedience on his part. Bill always had a catch. Dipper swallowed. The demon wanted him to choose. Wanted him to wake up each day knowing that it was _his_ decision that got him there. The boy began to cry again.

 

“Pick, Pine Tree. Before you piss me off, and I decide for you,” The demon warned.

 

Dipper whimpered out, “The second option.”

 

“Which is?”

 

He wanted Dipper to say it, to beg for it. The boy felt more tears running down his face as he cried, “I want to be your pet!” His vision went dark as deranged laughter filled his head..

 

_Good boy_

 

* * *

 

Dipper woke up on a plush bed. He shot up and tried to run before choking violently. He was flung back and gasped. Touching his neck, he found a collar.

 

“You awake, Pine Tree?” Bill asked.

 

Dipper did a double take. The once triangular monster now wore a person suit. With tattooed skin and six daunting arms. The boy whimpered, it wasn’t the most horrifying thing he’d ever seen, but it still petrified him. “Bill?” he asked, lip quivering.

 

“Ah, ah, ah, kid,” The demon made his way over to the bed. One of his hands reached out, the end of the leash propelled to it. He tugged the terrified boy closer. “From now on, you call me master, understand?” his fingers ran through the now clean hair.

 

Dipper nodded, body still trembling. This form of Bill also had one, all consuming, eye. It stared into his soul and made his feel powerless against the Eldritch beast. “Yes, m-master.”

 

“Good boy,” the demon praised, “such a good boy.” He moved the bangs and laid a kiss on the constellations that hid underneath.

 

Dipper felt warmth flow through him. Tears escaped his eyes but they weren’t ones of pain. He tried to press into the lips, into the misshapen body that was offering him the comfort he hadn’t had since before the end. The demon moved away, making him sob at the loss of contact.

 

“Oh, did you like that?” Bill teased, his hand continued to run through the boy’s hair. “Would you like more?” It was too easy really, making the boy crave contact.

 

Dipper nodded eagerly. A harsh tug made him squeal out, “Yes! Yes…master, please.”

 

Bill chuckled. “You always begged the prettiest. The others had no talent for it, but you,” The demon growled as he traced the collar around the boy’s neck, “have always been my favorite.”

 

Dipper’s mind was foggy with endorphins, a drug he hadn’t had in such a long time. He shuffled closer to the creature, silently pleading for more.

 

Bill decided to be merciful and give the boy another kiss, this time on the cheek. He watched how easily Dipper melted from the simple touch. With glee, he wrapped his arms around the shivering body. “Oh, my little Pine Tree is just as touch starved as he was before.”

 

The boy continued to sob, nuzzling into Bill chest. He knew the demon was grooming him. Knew he was manipulating him. Dipper knew but didn’t care, it had been so long since he’d felt any sort of love.

 

He would take what he could get.

 

* * *

 

 

Bill knew the human mind better than anything in the universe. Knew how to manipulate and mold a person to his whims. Dipper had held out for a long time, but at the end of the day, he was still human.

 

The process was slow but very effective.

 

The bed was plush with soft sheets and fluffy pillows. Books lined the wall of his room and some writing journals were stacked on a desk. Dipper was fed three times a day. He didn’t know what day it was, Bill no longer told him. The boy spent his time reading the library and sketching. Dipper took a bite out of his sandwich as he sketched Bill’s form.

 

The demon was kind to him, firm but not vicious. Dipper was waiting for the boot to drop. Waited for the creature to tear him apart and devour his brain. It never happened though. Bill always came in calm and collected. The boy didn’t know what the demon did all day. Probably just watched him pace around the expansive room. The demon would always come in and ask Dipper about his day. They’d bathe and talk before climbing into bed and curling around each other. The boy never wanted to admit how much he craved Bill’s touch. How his day was made by the awful creature holding him with those grotesque arms.

 

The innocence of their contact had slowly deteriorated. Bill’s once gentle kisses on the forehead turned into firm ones on the cheek, and nips down the neck. Trailing hands now slipped under clothing to hold and grab flesh. They never touched his most intimate parts or kissed his lips though. Dipper never stopped the contact, never asked for the demon to leave him alone. He wanted it, wanted the rush of joy and comfort the demon gave.

 

The boy realized long ago, or maybe not so long ago, that Bill had _let_ him kill his family. Bill wanted him alone, wanted him emotionally starved and vulnerable. He wanted to hate the demon, he tried to hate the demon. Dipper began to sob as he ate. A deep self loathing washed over him. He wanted Bill to kiss him, wanted Bill inside him. God, what would his family think? His old self? The carnal thoughts made him harden.

 

He wanted it.

 

The door opened and Bill sauntered into the room. He saw the boy’s tears and smiled, “What’s wrong, Pine Tree?” The demon could feel the distress and confusion radiating off Dipper. He knew the internal war raging in the boy’s head.

 

Dipper got off the bed and scrambled into the demon’s arms. “I don’t know,” he wept, letting himself be picked up and held close, “I...want...I.” His throat closed from his sobs and he choked on his tears. The demon carried him to the bed, pressing his back against the soft sheets. He wrapped his legs around Bill’s waist. His hand grabbed the bow tie and pulled the demon into a kiss. The large tongue entered his mouth without hesitation. Dipper moaned and circled his arms around the demon’s neck. Tears continued to trail down his eyes. It felt so good. This kind of pleasure was something he never felt before the end and certainly not after. “Feel good,” he gasped, “Want to feel good.”

 

Bill maneuvered the boy toward the headboard. “How so, Pine Tree?” he asked, trailing his hand down the thin side. Dipper grabbed its wrist and moved it over his groin.

 

“Please,” the boy begged. The hand ripped off his shorts and underwear so it could wrap around his cock. Dipper screamed as endorphins coursed through his body. It felt like electricity was shooting up his spine and running through his brain. There was no pain, only blinding pleasure. It was like floating. Being utterly weightless without a thought or a care. The pleasure peaked, making him tense and shake. He reluctantly came back down to earth. Dipper laid on the bed, trembling and pliant. He wanted the feeling again.

 

“Pine Tree?” the demon growled, scooping up the boy’s essence and pressing it to the soft lips. He smiled in triumph when the pink tongue licked his fingers clean. “Oh, Pine Tree, I adore you.”

 

“I love you,” Dipper whispered between mouthfuls of air, “I love you, master.”

 

* * *

 

Pine Tree folded the paper into a crane, smiling at the shape. Master had gotten him an origami book at some point. He still wouldn’t tell Pine Tree the time. The boy remembered that the demon used to tell him the time. After so long, or so little, his memory was foggy and untrustworthy. Things were scattered and missing, master was the only constant. He did know there was a time before this, he was unnaturally certain of it. He remembered he had another name too but, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall it. He was Pine Tree now, master’s pet, and he was loved.

 

Master was kind to him. Still fed him and bathed him. The boy was still cuddled and kissed every night. Master only raised a hand to him when necessary. His collar’s leash has been taken off long ago, maybe. He didn’t know how long he had been here. Pine Tree placed the final crane on the desk. He was proud of the 1,000 cranes that littered the wood. He remembered reading an old story that had 1,000 cranes in it. What the story was about escaped him, but he remembered the cranes. The boy sat on the bed and waited for master. He only got two meals today which meant master wanted sex. The boy was ecstatic. Pine Tree couldn’t clearly remember a time before pleasure, and he didn’t want to.

 

“Hello, Pine Tree,” the demon greeted.

 

The boy got off the bed and onto his knees. He crawled toward the demon. “Hello, master,” he smiled and rubbed the demon’s thighs. “I missed you,” he whispered and kissed the front of his master’s pants, “missed you so much.” Pine Tree’s hand slipped to the demon’s knee. “Can I? Please, master, can I?” he begged.

 

Bill smiled, “Of course, Pine tree.” He watched joy fill the boy’s eyes. So eager to please, so eager to touch. Bill turned the clothes he wore into a puff of smoke. As soon as his length was revealed, his pet consumed it.

 

Pine Tree sucked the member into his mouth. Moaning, he held the demon’s thighs as he moved his head up and down. It was long and hot, nearly scorching. Tears pricked at his eyes as he brought the hard cock into his throat.

 

“Oh, Pine Tree,” the demon moaned. One of his hands ran it’s fingers through the soft curls, “Such a good boy.” The triumphant noise he got from the praise sent a shiver down his spine. He used two hands to hold the boy’s head fast and began to rock his hips.

 

There was a time when he would have choked on the length. When he would have panicked and fought. But practice made perfect, and Pine Tree had a lot of practice. Drool trickled down his chin, his nostrils flared with his efforts to breathe. It was hard not to gag, but he managed. Two of master’s other hands came to clutch his. He smiled around the cock, knowing he was doing a good job. Those nimble fingers gave his a reassuring squeeze.

 

“Are you ready, Pine Tree?” Bill asked, hips speeding up. Dipper gurgled around him, making the demon purr. He loved that sound. The guttural sound of the boy nearly suffocating on his cock and enjoying every minute of it. “Drink it all, pet. Savor your meal.”

 

Pine Tree gagged as his nose was pressed against the demon’s pelvis. His throat spammed with an effort to dislodge the intrusion, but to no avail. Moans were silenced by the length as it pulsed. Warmth began to flood down his throat. He swallowed dutifully, his master tasted wonderfully sweet. The boy melted under the gentle pets his master gave him as he drank. It was a treat to have such a delicacy. After the final shot, he moved off the softening cock. “Thank you for the meal,” he said gleefully, voice hoarse.

 

Bill growled, the boy looked a mess. Drool and cum dripping down his chin. The demon leaned down and pressed a kiss on the marked forehead. “Such a good boy I have, would you like a reward?”

 

Pine Tree nodded eagerly. “Please, please,” his hips began to rock in anticipation.

 

“Good boys ask for what they want,” Bill pulled the human up by his hair. The excited mewl he got from the action made him smile. “Use your words.”

 

“Want you in me...fill me up, please,” the boy begged.

 

“You’re not full yet?” Bill teased, lifting Dipper in the air. He watched the boy shake his head. The demon threw the small body onto the bed, pinning it to the mattress.

 

Pine Tree spread his legs and welcomed the piercing length into him. His body shook from the insertion. God he loved the demonic cock. It reached deep inside him, hitting his most sensitive parts every time it moved. There was a point when his master would have stilled to let him adjust, that time had long since passed. Now the demon drilled into him without mercy or preamble. “Master, yes!” The boy screamed in ecstasy. His own hands pulled and tugged at his hair. “Thank you! Thank you!” He cried and tried to match the harsh rhythm. His back bowed and his toes curled.

 

Bill’s hands clutched his waist and moved the pliant body on his cock. “My sweet little tree. Taking my cock, like you were made for it. What do you want?” He pinned the boy’s wrists to the bed and held the milky legs up by the back of the knees. The boy had gotten so flexible, something Bill reveled in.

 

“Your cum, inside me. I want it! Please, I want it!” Pine Tree cried. His body tense as he came. His master fucked him through his orgasm. He gasped and choked on his cries as he was filled with a rush of warm liquid. Stated, he collapsed, limp.

 

Bill took the loose body into his arms. Wrapping them around the boy like a cage. “Happy 800th anniversary, kid,” he whispered, laying a kiss on the tear stained cheek.

 

Pine Tree furrowed his brow. He didn’t understand.

 

* * *

 

Bill gave him a new gift. He allowed his pet to wander the fearamid unsupervised. Well, not completely unsupervised, Bill was always watching. But he could go where he pleased without an escort.

 

The boy walked into the throne room and scaled the steps. It was huge and menacing. The twisted forms of the creatures that made his master’s chair were grotesque and numerous. It was too big for him to climb up on, so he wandered the base. He still looked at it though, curious of the statues that composed it. The boy new he’d seen creatures like these move at one point. There were all still now, and he wondered why. One in particular always caught his attention.

 

It was female, he believed that’s what his master called it. The concept of gender had become foggy. He knew he knew it at one time. Had known it by heart, but now… it didn’t really matter. The creature was around his size. Her face seemed at peace, almost as if she was asleep. But her eyes, her eyes seemed alive and knowing. As if begging and pleading, calling out to him in the only way she could. It unsettled him how they seemed to know him. How they seemed to match his own.

 

Her clothing was odd too. All tattered and worn. A ripped star on the front of her sweater. His fingers ran over her chest where a deep gash made her damaged heart visible. He wondered if master had inflicted the wound. Her entire appearance was so familiar and yet so alien. She made for a disturbing sight. It left him with a deep ache in his chest and a pain in his head. Yet he still found himself coming back to look at her.

 

Moving away, he took one last glance before going down the steps. Tears pricked at his eyes and he wiped them away in confusion. A word rang through his mind again. It did every time he came and saw that creature. A soft and broken voice that whispered,

 

_Mabel_

 

He began to cry anew. With a shaky voice, he replied, “I don’t know what that means.” His mind didn’t give him an answer, didn’t bring forth any memory the name was attached to. He went back to his room and waited for his master.

 

The boy never saw the tear trailing down statue’s cheek. He never did, and he never would.

 

Bill made sure of that.


End file.
